Do You Take Kurt Hummel?
by RoseWalton
Summary: A fiction, based on the novels, and TV series Dexter.  Kurt Hummel is a cold blooded serial killer.  Would you guess?


**Do You Take Kurt Hummel?** - **Getting To Know You**

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><p>Kurt Hummel was a good kid, anyone who knew him would agree, although his flaws were inevitable, they were all the more likeable. Living in Lima, Ohio isn't all that bad, although for someone like Kurt Hummel, it's a nightmare.<p>

If by now you have assumed that Kurt Hummel is normal kid, with a normal family, then you are very wrongly mistaken.

Kurt Hummel is a monster, not physically, but mentally. Kurt Hummel is a killer, a cold, bloodthirsty killer. Isn't it strange how innocent a seventeen year old boy, with pale white skin, and amazing clothes can seem from his outside surroundings.

Killing to Kurt is like squeezing a stress toy. It helps him release his anger at the world, and the people in it. If by now you are assuming that Kurt Hummel kills the innocent, then you are very wrong. If you are assuming that like Dexter Morgan, Kurt kills others who have killed, then again, you are sorely mistaken.

'I kill people like you.' Kurt looked down at his victim, who was lying naked on a cold marble table, sheets of cling film holding him down, and in place. Kurt looked down at his victim, his eyes bloodthirsty.

'Why? I haven't done anything wrong. I swear.' The victim replied, tears running down his face. Kurt reached down and swabbed the victim's mouth.

'Why are you taking my DNA? Am I in trouble?' Kurt laughed. He placed the swab in a small plastic bag, returning it to the table in which his other tools were sitting.

'Ah, victims, they never learn. Your not in trouble with the police, but your in trouble with me.' Kurt lifted a knife from his table.

'What? Why? I didn't do anything; you've got the wrong guy. Please just let me go.' Kurt caressed his knife; an evil grin was beginning to form on his face.

'You beat your wife. I saw you yesterday. I have photos, do you wanna see?' Kurt set the knife gently onto the table with great care. He lifted the photos, and walked behind the victim. Not a sound protruded from Kurt as he showed the victim, one by one, every photo he took, all that could be heard was the sound of the victims cries.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt her, I just get so angry sometimes. I cant control it, she makes me angry all the time.' Kurt walked swiftly back to the table and fingered the knife once more. He lifted a neatly cut snip of duct tape.

'You know who makes me angry Jeff?' Kurt hid the knife behind his back, and walked over to his victim.

'Who?' Kurt smirked, and placed the duct tape on the victims' mouth. He raised the knife in the air.

'You.' Kurt silently brought the knife down and stabbed the man just below his chest.

'That was a quick kill.' Kurt said as he began cleaning the mess. The cling film will be washed, rung, and then thrown away. The room will be completely cleaned of blood, and Jeff will be lying in woodland, far below the ground.

Kurt slowly began to clean the blood. Checking every nook and cranny for even the smallest drop, one of the great pros of having an Uncle in homicide is the perks of getting ultraviolet lights. Tony gave Kurt one for his birthday a few years ago. Every time Kurt kills, its there, looking for blood. After about an hour, the place was spotless. The body was in the trunk, and he was headed to the woodland.

It wasn't far, but it felt like forever. Kurt's emotionless breathing was the only thing that could be heard. He liked it this way; it was so calm, quiet and motionless. Much like the death he creates.

'Here we go Jeff, just have to bury you now, and then I can get home to have Friday night dinner with my family.' Kurt frequently spoke to the bodies of his victims before he buried them. It was traditional.

A small hole was already dug in the ground. Kurt didn't like the body's lying down, he liked them standing, why would he want to 'relax' them. After cleaning the muck of his hands, he jumped into his Navigator trunk, checking for any blood, or evidence that could potentially have him arrested. It was all clean.

Fifteen minuets took him home.

'Ten minuets early.' Kurt said, smiling. This was one of his fastest kills. Taking him only an hour and a half.

'Hey son, your home early. Didn't you say you'd be home late?' Burt looked at Kurt over the table. Burt was a stout man, but not fat. Kurt had a lot of respect for his Dad; Burt was a single Dad for most of Kurt's childhood. It certainly wasn't easy, especially when your son sang Dianna Ross songs all day.

'Yeah, but I managed to finish up pretty quickly.' Kurt said, 'besides, I know how much you like me to be early for our Friday night dinners.' Burt Hummel knew nothing about Kurt's monstrous ways. If he found out it would destroy him. Kurt would never let that happen.

A bewildered Finn walked into the kitchen, almost having to duck before proceeding further into the kitchen.

'Why are these ceilings so low?' Finn complained.

'Because they are?' Kurt replied, 'hey Dad is Uncle Tony coming round today?'

'No, he's sick. Down with the flu. You should take a trip out tomorrow. You haven't seen him in almost a week.' Burt answered. _That's because I've been hunting all week,_ Kurt thought.

Finn began, much to Kurt's annoyance, to help Burt set the table. They talked about football, girls, and cars. Kurt was a little jealous, but he would never admit it. Not in a million years, besides he had more to worry about. He needed to find someone to be his next victim, but he couldn't do it without the help of Tony. Tony worked at the Northeast Ohio homicide department, when Kurt was in need of a new victim, Kurt would simply look through his uncles files. Tony didn't care; he just thought Kurt was interested in being a cop.

Kurt walked into the living room, the TV in the corner was switched on the sound was a mumble in Kurt's ears. He sat down to reflect. Jeff was his fortieth victim. Forty dead body's standing in that small piece of earth, Kurt giggled.

'Why are you watching football Kurt?' Finn asked, Kurt rolled his eyes and looked around.

'Why are you so nosy?' Finn was a little taken back by his response, and sat down beside him.

'I'm sorry, Kurt. It must feel like I'm invading your privacy, I used some nasty homophobic language in front of you, and…' Kurt had heard enough.

'Finn, stop. I've forgiven you ages ago. I've just had a bad day today; things are just a little stressful lately. Sorry for being snarky.' _Actually, today's been great,_ Kurt thought, _I finally killed someone_.

'Okay, just, I wanna let you know that I'm your step-brother and you can talk to be about anything.' Finn said, blushing a little. Kurt didn't understand why Finn was so nervous. Its not like Kurt really cared for him. To Kurt, Finn was just another guy. Sometimes nice, sometimes not nice, but he was never dangerous. Kurt kept him off his radar.

'Just one last thing Finn, please, please, please keep it down up there with Rachel. I can't hear myself think.' Kurt smirked, and Finn blushed harder.

'How can you hear, your in the basement.' _Of course I am, isn't that where serial killers go, to get peace?_ Kurt thought.

'I can hear everything Finn, very little escapes me.' Kurt smiled innocently into Finns eyes.

'Dinner time boys,' Burt called from the kitchen.

'Can I go to Blaine's tonight Dad?' Kurt gave Burt his best puppy dog eyes, and added a small smile, as he walked into the kitchen.

'It's a little late, but okay, just please be home before midnight.'

'Why, are you afraid I'll loose a glass slipper?' Kurt replied smirking.

'Actually I wouldn't be surprised.' Burt replied stuffing his face with steak.

An hour later Kurt was on his way to Blaine's house. Him and Blaine started dating while he was at Dalton. The only reason Kurt went to Dalton was to hunt, Fred Balfour. His son Nick went to Dalton. Everyone at McKinley thought he left because of Karofsky, they didn't want to know what he could do to their little Kurt, but what they didn't know was what Kurt could do to Karofsky, was a lot worse.

Kurt knocked three times on the front door. There was no answer. Blaine's house was relatively large, his Dad was lawyer, and his Mon was a real-estate agent. Like most rich families in Lima, they had their difficulties. Blaine's Dad is known for loosing his temper. Kurt had seen the fear in his eyes when someone mentions his father.

Kurt was almost certain that there was someone in. He decided to try the back entrance. Kurt laughed at the pun, and looked through the kitchen window.

A small stout woman stood washing dishes. Blaine's Mom, tears fell down her plump cheeks, Kurt's hunting skills immediately came to life. He could smell fear a mile off, and Blaine's Mom stunk of it.

Kurt didn't bother knocking on the back door, nor did he bother waiting any longer. He simply drove back home.

'I think I've found my next victim.' Kurt mumbled to himself. 'Its gonna be tricky though.'

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><p><strong>AN:** This story is based of the Dexter franchise. Thats both the TV series and the books. I adore every episode and novel. So I'm writing my own, Kurt Hummel version.


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